I would visit each store in the keep in turn, each day, to pick up the rent. Each day, I would get the same from the human, the elf, the goblin. The human baker would complain that business was bad, the elf tailor would produce some moral argument, the goblin cook would just insult me for a half hour. But eventually they would pay up.
But the dwarf bartender would just pay up, no argument, no complaints. He was my favorite.
Until I passed the bar at night, and saw how much he was making. Then he was my least.
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